Reluctance
by InvaderProfessorMembrane
Summary: Gaz is sick, but doesn't want to admit it in fear of looking weak around her dad and brother. As she gets progressively worse, she is forced to admit the truth.


**A/N: So I know I write a lot of stories like this one, but I really need to get past this writer's block. **

**First off, I want to say this isn't 100% my idea. My mom and I were talking about it, so she should take credit too.**

Gaz woke up one morning with a scratchy throat.  
It felt like her entire throat was torn out and replaced with sandpaper, topped with hot, dry desert sand that had been in the sun forever.  
She snorted at this thought. It was springtime, and with spring came allergies. So she was allergic to pollen. Who wasn't?  
She got up and discarded the thought of her throat. What she needed was hydration.  
She stomped downstairs and rummaged in the fridge for some orange juice. Her father, who was sitting at the table, noticed her presence.  
"Good morning, daughter!" he said cheerfully.  
"Morning," Gaz grunted. She did not feel like talking at all.  
"How are you today?"  
Gaz chewed on this question. Should she tell Professor Membrane about the scratchy throat.  
No! What was she thinking? There was no way she was sick. It was just allergies. Gosh. Why did her father have to be so invasive of her privacy anyway?  
"I'm fine."  
"Good!"  
He got up.  
"Well, honey, I have to go to work. I'll see you later!"  
"Bye."  
Gaz had learned something from her experiences on this planet: short replies get people to shut up. After eating breakfast, she went upstairs to yell at her brother to wake up.

"Are you sure you want to walk to school alone?" her brother asked.  
"Yes, Dib, I'm sure. I'll be fine."  
Dib stood there and stared at her.  
"Well?" Gaz snapped. "Catch the bus before it leaves, stupid."  
Dib muttered an apology and hopped on the bus.  
Gaz was happy to, for once, be alone. Honestly, her brother was so annoying. She did _not_ need to be babied. Not by her father, and especially not by her brother. She was eleven.

Something tickled her lungs.

Gaz broke out into a giant fit of coughing. She wheezed. She leaned against a wall until it subsided— kind of. She was still coughing, but it wasn't constant anymore and she could breathe. Thank God neither her brother nor her father were around to hear that. They would question her, and she didn't need that.

When she got into class, however, her condition got even worse. She couldn't control the cough. People started staring. Gaz glared at the starers, but that still didn't stop them.  
"Uh, Gaz," Mr. Elliot, her teacher, said.  
"What?" she growled.  
"I think you should get a drink of water."  
Gaz walked out of the classroom without saying anything. She knew water wouldn't help. "Go get water" was the teacher equivalent to "get out of my classroom, idiot. You're distracting my classmates".  
At least now she was out of there. She could cough freely without having any idiotic classmates gawk at her.

After lunch, Gaz convinced herself that she was sick. Oh well. Everyone got sick. Although Dib and herself rarely ever did. Gaz was pretty sure she'd never had a fever.  
She'd fight through that day, and then when she got home she would rest and get better. No one needed to know. Not even her dad or Dib.  
But it was so hard to concentrate. Fatigue overcame her, and she struggled to even keep her eyes open.  
She stared at the clock. They still had a good thirty good minutes in class. Gaz groaned. How on _earth_ was she supposed to survive this for another half hour?  
She laid her head down. Maybe if she could fall asleep now and wake up in five minutes…  
"Gaz," Mr. Elliot said. "Please sit up straight."  
Gaz glared at him but did what she was told. Honestly. Why did school even have to exist? She wished she could be homeschooled. Her dad would do a much better job at teaching her things than this moron.

After seemed like two eternities, the dismissal bell rang. Gaz ran out with full speed. This sudden exertion of effort triggered another coughing fit.  
"Hey, Gaz," said a voice behind her.  
Dib.  
"What, Dib?" she she asked.  
"Just wanted to ask if you were ready to go yet."  
"Oh, yeah, I am." Gaz choked a little. Holding back a coughing fit was so hard. It's as if something inside of her wanted to burst violently.  
"Okay, cool," Dib said. "Anyway, I just wanted to show you my latest findings on Zim. Today, in class, he was trying to erase pen! What kind of human doesn't know that you can't erase pen?"  
"A stupid one," Gaz answered curtly.  
Dib snickered. Gaz really didn't want to hear about her brother's findings or whatnot. Plus, his voice seemed… loud. Louder than usual, at least. So loud that it bothered her ears.  
"True! But Zim is pretty smart… I say this in spite of myself."  
Gaz glared at him.  
"Stop talking Dib. Your voice is making my ears hurt."  
"Alright, alright. Geez.  
Gaz was slightly stunned that Dib just agreed to be quiet, but was nonetheless happy.

When Gaz got home, she immediately locked herself in her room and coughed. She coughed until her lungs were on fire and she was wheezing. It was worth it. It felt so good to get that out.  
A few minutes into her fit Dib knocked at the door.  
"Gaz, are you okay? I hear you coughing."  
Gaz threw open the door.  
"I'm fine, you dimwit," she snapped.  
"Okay. But I just heard you coughing and—"  
Gaz closed the door in his face. Honestly, how stupid could be get? How hard was it to understand that she wanted to be alone? Anyone with half a brain could understand that.  
Gaz decided to blast out music through a speaker to cover up the noise of her hacking.  
She stuck in a metal CD and turned the volume up to forty. It hurt her ears, but it was nothing compared to the relief she felt.

Later on that day, her condition worsened. She couldn't focus on her homework because of severe fatigue, and with each cough pain wracked her body. She felt shaky and kind of foggy, like there was a cloud in her brain.  
But no one could know! She was tough and didn't need anyone. She could get over this on her own. She shivered and climbed into bed. She needed a nap badly. Before she knew it, Gaz was drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

Dib gently nudged Gaz.  
"Hey," he said gently. "I know I'm not allowed in your room, but dinner is ready."  
Gaz groaned. Her head throbbed, and her breaths were raspy. This was probably the worst she had ever felt in her life.  
"Alright, Dib." she said, climbing out of bed.

But this proved harder than it sounded. The stairs became a maze. Her head was swimming, and when she reached for the railing she missed it and hobbled forward.  
"Are you okay?" Dib asked.  
Gaz felt like telling him that she was sick, but then she remembered her promise to herself. No one would know. No one!  
"Yeah, Dib. I just woke up, that's all."  
Another coughing fit threatened to escape. She held it down.  
Her lungs burned, but she forced herself to ask, "What are we having for dinner?"  
"Chicken and mashed potatoes," Dib answered. He handed Gaz a plate.  
"Serve yourself. I'm not sure how much you want."  
Gaz really wasn't hungry. In fact, the thought of food kind of sickened her. But she didn't want to make Dib suspicious, so she took what she was pretty sure was a normal amount of food and ate it.

An hour after that, Gaz was wondering if she'd make it through the night. Nausea was slowly taking her over and her head was pounding. She wheezed.  
"Alright," she muttered though clenched teeth. "I'll tell my dad. But only because my condition has gotten so bad." She sat on the couch, waiting for him to walk through the door. She knew that once he was in the house, everything would be okay. Another fit of coughing arose. No use in holding in back now. Every time she coughed, it felt like someone hit her back with a baseball bat. The coughing made her nausea worsen, and her stomach lurched. Partially digested dinner, bile, and swallowed saliva splashed out onto the floor, on the back of the coffee table and on the sides of the couch. Again and again she vomited. Tears rolled down her face. It burned so bad. She coughed, but this only triggered more vomiting.

And then she heard something that gave her a sliver of hope.

She heard keys being inserted into the lock outside of her house. Her dad was home. Her dad was home!  
The door opened and Professor Membrane walked through the door.  
"Dad," Gaz whispered, walking towards him.  
"Hello, honey!"  
"Dad, I'm really sick," she said.  
"Sick how?" he asked with concern.  
"My head hurts and I've been having coughing fits all day and I violently puked over there," she said, pointing towards the couch.  
Professor Membrane bent down, took off a glove, and felt Gaz's forehead. His hand was cold, and Gaz shivered a little.  
"You have a fever," he said. "I just don't know how bad it is…"  
He pulled out a thermometer.  
"Open your mouth, Gaz," he said. When she did so, he stuck the thermometer under her tongue.  
He shook his head. "It's really bad. One-hundred and five degrees. No school for you tomorrow." Gaz nodded. "Okay." She felt so weak. Coughing threatened her again, and so did nausea. She coughed and threw up some more. Professor Membrane just flinched and watched her. When he was pretty sure she was finished, he gently lifted her, resting her head on his shoulder. Gaz wanted to tell him she could walk, but her throat was on fire. And could she really walk? She felt so weak.  
Professor Membrane carried Gaz into the bathroom and put her down by the sink. Gaz leaned against the sink for support.  
"Rinse your mouth out, honey," he said. "I can imagine the taste in your mouth is awful."  
"You're right," she mumbled. She swirled water in her mouth and spat it out.  
Professor Membrane picked her back up and took her back upstairs. He laid her down on her bed.  
"Stay here, Gaz" Professor Membrane said.  
"Okay, dad," Gaz answered. Saying that in her condition was so difficult.

Professor Membrane walked downstairs to get Gaz water. Dib, who was unaware of the situation, ran downstairs to greet his father.  
"Be careful," Professor Membrane said. "Gaz vomited around there."  
Dib backed up.  
"Thanks for the heads-up," Dib said,stepping back. "Is she sick?"  
"She didn't tell you?"  
"No." Dib thought for a minute. "But I did hear her have a coughing fit."  
"Did she refuse to tell you what was wrong?"  
"Yes."  
"I wish she would have told me earlier," Professor Membrane said, sighing. He got two glasses and filled one up with water, the other with ginger ale.

He brought both glasses up the stairs.  
"Here," Professor Membrane said, handing Gaz the glass of water. "Drink this, and then you can have the ginger ale. Water is the best thing for you right after you vomit. I want you to drink the whole thing."  
Gaz took the water. It was cold and refreshing to her burning throat. However, the coolness of the water made her shiver. Professor Membrane wrapped a fluffy, dark blue blanket around her. He supervised as she drank the water. When she'd drank the water, he handed her the ginger ale.  
"It's important to hydrate as much as you can," Professor Membrane explained. "Also, the ginger might soothe your stomach a bit."  
He also made sure she drank all of the ginger ale.  
"What did you learn from this?" Professor Membrane asked Gaz.  
"What did I learn from what?"  
He bent down. "Gaz, when something is wrong, do not hesitate to tell me."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It's alright. But please, you're the only one who can bring it to my attention if you're feeling unwell."  
Gaz nodded.  
"What have I been infected with?" She asked.  
"Probably just a nasty case of the flu," Professor Membrane answered.  
"Oh…"  
"I'm going to give you something for that," Professor Membrane said. "I'll be right back."  
As Professor Membrane ran out of the room, Gaz felt happiness. She loved her father so much. She knew he'd know exactly what to do. He'd approach it scientifically, just like he always did.  
Professor Membrane came back with a glass of milk, a bucket, and medicine. He placed the milk on the counter along with the medicine, and the bucket on the edge.  
"The medicine should help with your fever," Professor Membrane said. "But it's very bitter, so I brought milk to draw the taste out. And the bucket is an emesis bucket. Throw up in it if you need to."  
He sat Gaz up as gently as he could and gave her a spoonful of syrup-like red medicine. Her dad was right. It was so bitter.  
She grabbed the milk and drank it down.

The rest of the night until about three in the morning was miserable. Gaz had another bout of vomiting, and Professor Membrane did his best to try to comfort Gaz during this time. He patted her back, held her closely and held back her dark purple hair. These things made the night more tolerable for Gaz. Sometimes she'd just sit in Professor Membrane's lap and hug him until nausea forced her to turn away from him. But in the times when she could hug him, he'd tell her about his most recent work or an interesting science fact that was so impressive that it didn't seem real. She liked this a lot.  
"Dad," she said.  
"Yes?"  
"D-Do you promise you won't tell Dib that I'm letting you treat me like a baby?"  
Professor Membrane chuckled at this.  
"Yes, I promise."  
"Good, 'cause I don't want him to think I'm weak."  
"No one thinks you're weak, Gaz. Being strong isn't about concealing a problem. Imagine if scientists didn't report an error in their calculations or their data in fear of being thought of as stupid. Imagine if they messed up badly and tried to fix the problems themselves. Sometimes, you need the aid of others. Even if you're reluctant to seek it out."  
Gaz considered this.  
"So, you don't think I'm weak?"  
"Nope. Not at all."  
"Good," she said, crawling into his lap. She laid her feverish head on her dad's stomach. She drifted in and out of sleep as he held her.

At around four in the morning the vomiting subsided and Professor Membrane became tired. He told her that she should come to his room if she needed anything or if she felt ill. Gaz was so tired that by the time Professor Membrane shut the door, she was already asleep.

**Done! I don't think I'm going to add another chapter to this. Should I?**

**Edit (4/13/14): Added another little part to this to make it… make more sense.**

**Edit (4/19/14): Added some words so that "discarded" made sense in the context in which it was being used. **


End file.
